


grapes

by deadbeats (ricefields)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, M/M, Masturbation, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricefields/pseuds/deadbeats
Summary: He wants to piss him off enough to give up on this.Rintarou knows better of what to do.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	grapes

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** They are bantering here. The sole reason for Komori's _no_ s is to spite Suna. Well, what do you expect from a cheeky bastard and _his_ bastard? [sighs fondly]

"Motoya."

Rintarou nudges the sleeping man beside him softly. He can hear birds chirping outside of their bedroom windows, and a glance through the gap between the curtains confirmed that indeed morning has come, dawn coloring the sky lilac.

No response.

"Motoya."

He tries again, shifting closer to the man-shaped lump, lips brushing the back of Motoya's ear. His leg escapes the confine of the blanket and clings to Motoya's sleeping form, squeezing him tight.

Rintarou shifts and the friction is enough to make his stomach churns. He groans inwardly, hiding his face on the back of Motoya's neck.

Rintarou's leg hugs him tighter, hips moving in small circles and mindless thrusts against the thick material, chasing his pleasure. He breathes heavily against Motoya's nape, nuzzling the warm skin.

"What're ya doin'."

Motoya slurs, slowly stirring awake. Rintarou lets out a huff of discontent having to stop rutting against the blanket.

"I'm hard."

"Don't care."

Rintarou groans. "Let's fuck."

"No. 'm still sleepy."

"You won't be sleepy once you move," he answers breezily, giving his nape a peck and a light bite. Rintarou hears Motoya sucks in a little breath, and he smirks.

_Gotcha._

Motoya slaps his hand to the back of his neck, body turning to glare at Rintarou. 

"And you _really_ have the audacity to say _that?_ Me being the one who moves while it's your dick that wants _this?_ ”

Motoya scoffs at the leer Rintarou throws at him. "You like to move."

"T-That's beside the point," Motoya says while shifting his eyes to anywhere but Rintarou. The smirk on his smug face deepens, which Motoya answers with "oh, fuck you."

"That's the idea," Rintarou quips, ducking his head to kiss the smooth line of Motoya's throat.

"You bastard," he gasps, hands debating between pushing Rintarou away or pulling him closer.

Motoya settles with the latter.

He loops his arms around Rintarou's head so he can't move closer or shift away. "Stay here," he hisses. "Gods above—Rin stop _moving!_ "

Rintarou sighs, peering up at Motoya's face.

Flushed. 

Good. A little bit more until his lover is down for _it._

Rintarou grins toothily and licks the soft meat underneath his chin. "Okay, I'll stay here."

Motoya grimaces. "No kissing, no licking, _nothing_ ," Motoya bites out. "You haven't brushed your teeth. Ew."

"If brushing my teeth will result in us fucking, then I will."

Motoya groans. "You really wanna do it that much, huh?"

His smile is impish, he's so sure of it, judging from the way Motoya's face flushes a deeper shade of red. "I need my daily dose of juicy ass."

" _What the fuck._ "

Rintarou hums. "I'm Motoyass-deficient. Let's fuck."

Motoya pulls his hair once, fed up with his crass words. Rintarou's nose scrunched up in pain. "Ow, someone's kinky this morning."

"You never shut up, don't you?"

"’kay, I'll moan louder this time."

Motoya rolls his eyes and says, "whatever, do as you will."

Rintarou wants to kiss his smart mouth, but he rather bid his luck for another offer. "Can I touch you?"

"I think I said something about no-touching-policy, _baby_."

Motoya spits out the word _baby_ , tone high and mocking. He wants to piss him off enough to give up on this.

Rintarou knows better of what to do.

"Okay, we're playing this game."

His dotted eyebrows lift in an inquiry. 

_Cute_.

Well, fuck. He likes this man so much. And possibly more than that.

 _Fuck,_ he curses inwardly, once more with feelings.

"—th to Rin. Earth to Rin," he feels Motoya's finger nudges his cheek. "What game."

He doesn't even bother to end the sentence with a lilt of question. It makes Rintarou want to shut him up with a kiss even more.

He sighs. _Later_. "Just as you said; I will stay here and I won't touch you."

Motoya is eyeing him warily now. "O...kay."

Rintarou taps his forehead against his collarbone. "But you have to stay here, too."

"Of course."

"Great," he breathes out, hand immediately creeping past the elastic band of his sweats, slipping it along with his boxer down a little.

Rintarou gives his cock a light tug, grimaces a little from the sensation of his dry palm makes a contact with his hot length without lubricant. He thumbs at his tip and swirls the precum around, teasing his slit to spit out even more slick.

He shifts the flat of his palm to gather the liquid and brings it down along his length, and shudders a little when he starts to pump his dick slowly from root to tip, just the way he likes it.

"Toya..." he whispers against Motoya's sternum, voice rough and low. 

_I'll moan louder this time._

He's not kidding when he said that. He's on a mission right now.

Rintarou's other hand grasps the blanket bunching up near Motoya's hip, his other hand have his cock in a tight and warm grip, a poor imitation of his lover's slick and velvety walls. He groans when pleasure hits him in waves, hips moving faster to chase his climax.

"Fuck, _Toya,_ " he growls, and Rintarou distantly hears a whimper and feels the body before him stills. Tentative hands reaching out to him and cupping his face, moving past his ears and settle in his hair, carding and tugging his chocolate strands.

Motoya is pulling him closer into his embrace.

Rintarou heart soars.

He's fucking his own fist now, burrowing his face deeper into Motoya's neck and pants there. Motoya's fingers are tugging his strands a tad harder than before, and Rintarou feels rather than see the way his legs rubs against each other under the cover, seeking for friction.

Rintarou grins. 

_He’s got Motoya hot for him._

Soon will be him sitting astride on Rintarou's lap, the warm cavern of his hole sheathes his cock rather than his own palm.

The thought spurs him on, and Motoya's name comes out from his lips like a prayer from somewhere deep in his chest.

" _Toya_ ," he says at last, before closing his teeth lightly on the hollow of Motoya's throat. Rintarou comes in spurts, his palm closing in on the head of his cock as to not spill his cum on the sheets. He strokes himself throughout his high, milking himself to the last of his orgasm.

Motoya is holding him close and Rintarou can hear him shudders out a breath, hips stuttering in its movement. He lets go of the skin between his teeth after giving an apologetic lick and peck, his lips moving upwards to kiss the corner of Motoya's lips.

"Oops, sorry."

"—air," Motoya whispers near his lips.

"What? I didn't catch—“

Motoya whirls himself and ends up straddling Rintarou's torso. "You are so unfair, bastard."

Rintarou raises his hands in surrender, one palm still covered with white streaks. "My hand is still dirty—“

"I don't care. You can wipe it on the sheet for all I care."

"You care because it'll be a pain to wash," Rintarou glances at Motoya's crotch in front of him and notices an apparent bump there, the front of his light grey sweats damp.

Rintarou leers.

" _Fuck you,_ " Motoya hisses out while humping his bottom half against his abdomen, body tipping forward. His hands are grasping on Rintarou's pecs, mindless and desperate.

"That's the idea," Rintarou huffs out a laugh, soiled hand reaching out to free Motoya's length from his pants.

Motoya's _shut up_ is a breathless one, and soon they move in tandem, Rintarou's hand on Motoya's leaking cock and Motoya's own preparing himself with help of lubricant from their bedside table.

Motoya moans a _hurry up_ and pressing himself against Rintarou's length, back a graceful arch underneath his touch.

Rintarou enters him in one slick slide, his grip on Motoya's hips strong enough to bruise.

He looks up at Motoya, sweet and sweaty atop of him, biting his plush bottom lip to suppress a moan.

"Bet you're not sleepy now, babe," he grits out, hips grinding against the meat of Motoya's ass. Motoya answers with a grunt, opening his eyes and stares down at him. Rintarou meets his gaze readily, palms warm against his flank.

"Now, _move_."

**Author's Note:**

> lets talk sunakomo with me on [twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/portorosei)


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